My Hands Are Painted Red
by LordByronMudkippington
Summary: Yang's always had some anger issues, but it helped her in battle. It was kind of her thing. When there's no more battles, it doesn't have anywhere to go. That can be a problem.


She'd always been angry. That was how her powers worked: the more damage she took, the angrier she got, and the more damage she could dole out in turn. In her mind, the anger and the fighting belied a cheerful, joking personalty. That was what she'd believed ever since the first fight she'd gotten into back when she was just a child. Things changed as she got older, though. It started to make her wonder if all of that wasn't reversed: that it was her smile and her jokes that hid a young woman full of boiling anger, always threatening to break through the surface and take out everyone in its path. She'd always been angry, but it had taken more than meager inconveniences to push her to the point of no return.

"Come on, come on..." She tapped her handlebars crossly, glaring at the red light through her sunglasses. It felt like she'd been sitting there forever, even if it had only been maybe forty-five seconds. She couldn't stand waiting at lights. Her patience had always been reserved for people she cared about. She'd sit with someone for as much time as they needed when they were sad or needed to vent. Training Ruby in hand to hand combat had also been a lengthy undertaking, but it had never felt annoying. This, however, did. Her patience did not extend outside of her close compatriots, and it seemed to have eroded further the older she got. There wasn't even anyone coming from the other side. If she could just go on her own volition, she'd be home a lot faster. This dumb light didn't know more about her own abilities than she did. It was so frustrating...

When the light turned green, her motorcycle roared as she sped off, barely giving a glance to the side to see if any cars were showing up to try and chase their now-red light. She gripped the handlebars tightly, shaking her head slightly to try and clear it. Her temper hadn't been this hard to contain before. She'd been a lot angrier than most people, but it hadn't been out of control. It wasn't like she went to school picking fights everyday. Sometimes those fights came to her, and she would never back down from them, but that didn't mean she had a violence fetish. Things were just tougher now for whatever reason.

As she zoomed towards the next light, several people decided it was time to cross the street. Ugh, she really didn't like that. People really thought that they had the right of way all the time. It didn't matter if someone in a vehicle made of metal and incredible speed was barreling towards them. They decided, "Hey, I'm going to walk across the street whenever I damn well please, and you'd better stop or you're the one getting in trouble." Fucking jaywalkers... They really irked her something fierce. What was worse is that they had no urgency! If they were going to break the law, at the very least they could get their asses in gear. But no, they just had to walk like it was their own personal area.

They had reached the part of the street that she was supposed to cross. There was a car on her side keeping her from switching lanes, meaning she didn't have anywhere else to go. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she hit the gas and stayed the course, heading straight for the pedestrians. They turned at the sound, letting out a collective scream as she slammed her motorcycle into them. The impact rolled her wheels right over one of them, her handlebars clipping another. It also destabilized her vehicle, sending her falling off her seat and hitting the concrete hard. Sharp pain went through her body, but she didn't care at the moment. All she could do was laugh uncontrollably, enraged and giddy at the thought of those fucking pedestrians slammed beneath her wheels. She just kept laughing, her vision turning to blood.

A car honked at her, and she looked up in confusion. She was still on her motorcycle, with a green light beaming down at her. The pedestrians were all on the sidewalk already, continuing on their merry way as if they hadn't all just been run over by a renegade cyclist. Had she not just done that? She looked down at her bike, seeing every part still clean and in its proper place. Her skin was fine too, without any of the scrapes that would've come with sliding along an unforgiving street. The car behind her honked again, longer this time.

"Alright, alright! I'm going!" She pushed her feet off the street and started riding again, but she was clearly shaken by what had happened. It hadn't happened, but it felt so real. Her hands were shaking, and she still felt an unbelievable amount of unbridled anger raging inside her body. She couldn't get the sight of herself running those innocent people over out of her head, and it scared her. "What the hell was that..." She didn't have an answer.

At her apartment, she laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. She was restless, but her concern over what had happened made it so she couldn't concentrate properly on anything else. It wasn't that she'd never thought of herself doing something bad to people before. She felt like most people had those kinds of fantasies sometimes. They were bad, but it happened, and they'd certainly never act on them.

This was more than that, though. It had been so vivid that she really thought she had run those people over. Even now, hours later, it still shook her. She couldn't get the sight out of her head no matter how hard she tried. It wouldn't have mattered, though. Even if she _had_ gotten rid of the sight, their screams still rang in her ears. It wasn't real, but she was having a hard time coming to grips with it. Besides, those were thoughts she shouldn't have been having, even if they weren't real. Would she really do that to someone just because they were walking slow?

Nah, that was silly. She'd never been that violent before. It was just a heat of the moment kind of thing. She wouldn't do something so rash for little reason. It was a mere blip in her mind. A very angry blip, but a blip nevertheless. She shouldn't keep worrying herself to death over it. That was how she'd get ulcers or whatnot. Besides, Blake was going to be home soon, and she didn't want to be carrying such worries when she arrived. If she did, then Blake would notice, and she'd ask about what was going on. She'd never been great at keeping things from her, and she didn't want Blake to look at her weird knowing she had those kinds of thoughts. It was just a one time thing anyway, so it was best to just keep it to herself.

* * *

As the days went on, she felt the creeping dread of knowledge that those thoughts weren't going away. It was really getting out of hand. Her anger, which had been easier to keep hidden away just a couple of years ago, was becoming much harder to not act on. Little things would set her off, and it took more effort than it should have to just mutter a string of curses. She was doing more than just swearing in her mind, though. No person or object was safe from her mental wrath.

If someone talked to her with a bit of attitude, her first thought was to slam her fist into their annoying little face. If something wasn't working properly, she was always one step away from smashing it to pieces with a bat. At this point, the thoughts were legitimately terrifying. She found herself reluctant to even step outside, worried that it would be the day that she finally snapped and got herself sent to prison for aggravated assault. Maybe she was finally losing her mind after all those years of fighting.

The current day was going alright, though. She'd gone to the grocery store with Blake and hadn't felt like punching a hole through the pancake batter, so that was an improvement. By the time they'd gotten to the self checkout line and paid for everything, she wasn't even thinking about her angry thoughts. Blake was a helpful partner in that regard, chatting about the latest novel she'd read and keeping her invested in the conversation. Not that she knew she was helping, but inadvertent was good too.

That changed when they got outside. To her horror, she found her motorcycle on the ground in the parking lot. Someone must've knocked it over, either by nudging it with their car or pushing it with their hands. She shoved the groceries in Blake's hands before running towards her baby and dropping to her knees. Lifting up her motorcycle, she could see that for the most part, it was fine. However, there was some scuffing, along with a slight puncture in the body. The yellow paint job started to turn red in her eyes as her hands shook.

"Is your bike okay?" Blake caught up to Yang and looked down in concern. She couldn't see any damage from the way it was being held, but she knew how much Yang cared about it. Her being upset about it being knocked over was to be expected, but she was surprised to see just how angry she was. She could see Yang's body almost vibrating as she pulled her motorcycle back up, fire raging in her eyes as she let out a string of curses at whoever had done such a terrible thing.

"God damn fucking asshole, knocking over my fucking bike." She started walking around the parking spot, her face growing red with anger. Stopping at the car next to them, she bent over to look at the paint job. If it had hit her bike, then it might have a slight ding of its own. "If this fucker knocked over my bike, I'm gonna break their fucking back over my knee..."

"Yang?" Blake frowned, her concern only deepening after hearing what Yang was saying. She'd never heard her like this before. Sure, she could get angry, but saying these kind of violent things wasn't normal for her. Even if it was about her motorcycle, this was going a bit far. "It's okay. We can repair the bike." She tried to inject some calm into the conversation, but Yang wasn't having it.

"How hard is it to not hit someone else's vehicle?!" She screamed at Blake, her hands curled into fists. "Why does everyone have to be such an inconsiderate asshole?! They just ran away because they're too chickenshit to face me!" Blake took a step back, her eyes wide at the flames licking at Yang's hair. She'd really gone off the deep end for something that didn't seem worth the anger. It was like seeing her in combat again. At that point, it seemed as if Yang realized what she was doing. She turned away from Blake, slinging a leg over the seat of her bike. "Come on, let's go." There was no room for arguing, so Blake just silently got on and wrapped her arms around Yang's stomach. Fear churned inside her as Yang backed up and got them out of the parking lot.

The ride home was silent, as neither of them were really feeling up to talking. Yang could barely concentrate on the road while she was fretting about her poor baby and planning revenge on whoever had hurt it. They were going to pay, no doubt about it. Of course, she didn't have any way of knowing who truly knocked her bike over, unless the grocery store was going to allow her access to their parking lot cameras. If she ever found out, though, she would be merciless. Lots of images of torture ran through mind, with an unknown, faceless person being thrown into each one. They would regret ever coming anywhere near her precious bike. How fucking dare they...

Behind her, Blake's mind was fraught with worry. She could feel Yang shaking with rage in her arms, and she was afraid those emotions would cause her to be reckless. Well, more reckless than usual, as in 'slam them into a bus stop' reckless. She'd been here before, though. She'd calmed Yang down from those perilous cliffs. That had all been due to less reputable characters trying to get a rise out of her, though, or after a particularly harrowing nightmare. This was nothing compared to those. This was just her bike being knocked over. Nothing like this had gotten her so riled up before. Had this been going on before, and this was just the first time she noticed it?

A further conversation about what went down didn't end up happening. Yang had calmed down somewhat by the time they got home, but she was still clearly not in a mood for talking. Rather than pushing it, Blake decided to just let it be for now. Maybe it was just a one time outburst. It wasn't like her, though, and it was hard for Blake to believe that something like that would happen again. By the time they would go to bed that night, everything would surely be fine again.

* * *

It didn't get any better as the weeks went on. Yang found herself in a cycle of getting pissed off at something, having an outrageous reaction, then fearing herself over that reaction. She wished she could just stop thinking about all the terribly violent imagery running through her head every time someone did something to make her mad. Though she hadn't gone rogue and started cracking skulls at the mall, she was continually worried that it was only a matter of time before something like that happened. It was like she was a ticking time bomb, and she had no idea when she'd finally explode.

Being in her apartment seemed like the only place where she could avoid someone or something pissing her off. Not always, though. One evening, Blake came home with their dinner. Hungry as she was, Yang hurried over to the table and started grabbing food out of the bag. She unwrapped the first burger she came across, immediately recoiling at the unappetizing-looking burger in her hands.

"I didn't know you ate this kind of burger." She handed it over to Blake, who took it with a confused look. "I thought you always got the filet-o-fish." Her hand was right back in the bag to pull out the other burger.

"I did." Blake stared at the burger, pulling up the top bun to look inside. "This is supposed to be your burger." When Yang unwrapped the other burger, it was indeed a filet-o-fish. So that other burger was supposed to be hers... but it didn't look anything like what she had asked for. "I told them your order exactly as you said, though." Blake put the burger down and fished out the receipt, running a finger down the paper to look at each line item. "It even says it correctly on the receipt."

"Right..." Yang reached over and grabbed the burger again, clear disgust on her face. Being correct on the receipt didn't mean it was going to be correct when it entered the bag. One would think that'd be the case, but you just never knew. She wished that Blake had checked before leaving, just in case. Now she had this ugly-ass burger that she really wanted nothing to do with. It was about half her meal, though...

"I'm sorry, Yang." She could see that Yang was frustrated about her order being wrong. It wasn't something she blamed her for, though she felt a twinge of worry that she'd freak out over it. "Do you want me to go back and have them make the right one?" Honestly, she didn't really want to go back out again, but she felt bad that the burger hadn't come out right. She'd do it if Yang asked her to.

"No. It's fine." She dropped the burger back onto the table, having no appetite for it. Getting the wrong order infuriated her, but that didn't mean she wanted Blake to waste her time going back to exchange burgers. She'd rather just deal with it.

"It doesn't seem fine." She wasn't fooled by Yang's words. The annoyance was written all over her face. If she thought she was doing even a passable job of hiding it, she was sorely mistaken.

"I said it was fine!" Red filtered into Yang's eyes as she slammed her fist down on the table, squashing the poor burger. She looked down, surprised at the strange-feeling contact. Well, if she'd had any thoughts about eating that burger, it wasn't happening now. Her knockout blow had splattered some of the insides onto the table, making a bit of a mess. That wasn't the only mess she had made, though. When she looked up, Blake was staring at her with wide, fearful eyes. That snapped her out of her bad mood real quick.

"I-I'm sorry..." This was exactly what she'd feared would happen. Losing her temper at strangers or inanimate objects was one thing, but losing it towards Blake? That was never acceptable. It wasn't even Blake's fault in the first place, though it wouldn't have been okay even if it was. The one thing she'd been worrying about the most was unfolding in front of her, and for what? Why was she getting so mad over a god damn hamburger? She'd tried so hard to keep her temper down around Blake, but now she'd blown her top right in front of her.

"Uh, it's... it's okay..." Blake could barely get out her words, shocked into near-silence by Yang's sudden outburst. It brought her parking lot blowup from several weeks ago right back to the forefront of her mind. She wanted to just say it was another random occurrence, or maybe Yang had a bad day, but this just wasn't normal for her. How could she bring it up without making her madder, though? The last thing she wanted was to make Yang start yelling again.

"It's not! It's not okay!" In anger, Yang grabbed the demolished burger and hurled it across the room. As soon as it hit the wall, the flames in her hair started to die out. It was like she didn't realize what she was doing until she'd already done it. Her anger was quickly replaced by sadness, and she sunk to her knees with tears falling down her face. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." She hugged herself tightly, crying uncontrollably in front of Blake. Everything was going wrong. Why was she so god damn angry?

"Yang, what's wrong?" Blake hurried over and dropped down to the floor, the food already forgotten. Despite her worries over Yang's anger, she didn't hesitate to pull her into a hug. This was worse than she'd imagined. Yang had always been an emotional woman. She had always seemed like a big, happy lug from the moment they met, which had made it difficult to understand how she could become so incredibly angry at the drop of a hat. Eventually she came to realize that Yang was a woman of heightened emotions. She would go through the highest of highs and always appear to be the happiest person on the planet. Other times, she would be sobbing uncontrollably in their dorm room while Blake held her and tried to calm her down. She was just extreme with her emotions, no matter which emotion she was going through. That could make for some very worrisome moments, though. Like this one.

"Nothing! I mean... I don't know what's wrong..." Her words were cut off by another sob, and she let herself be enveloped in Blake's hug. She hid her face against Blake's shoulder and cried on it, mentally cursing herself for losing it like this. All of the outbursts and the violent thoughts... Maybe she _was_ going crazy. "I don't understand what's happening to me..."

"What do you mean?" Blake swallowed nervously, forcing Yang to look her in the eyes. The anger that had been there was gone now, replaced by tears and a worry that transferred right into her heart. She didn't know what Yang was going to say, and her mind was racing trying to figure out what it might be. At the same time, she knew that whatever it was, she would need to be there for her. They were partners, after all. She'd already been through the whole 'I'm never leaving you again' deal. This wasn't going to make her back out of that now.

"Everything's making me so mad, and... and I have these awful thoughts..." She shuddered, not wanting to admit out loud what she'd been thinking of. On rare occasions she'd said some pretty violent things about people towards Blake, even before her bike had gotten knocked over. Those had just seemed like outliers, though. She didn't want to admit that it was becoming the norm now. Though she tried to look away from Blake, her partner's grip kept their eyes locked.

"Tell me." This was finally the opportunity she'd been searching for to hash out these feelings with Yang, and she wasn't going to let it slip away. She could tell that Yang didn't want to talk about it, but neither of them really had a choice at this point. This had gotten to a point where letting it go would make things worse. No matter what Yang said, she was ready to listen, take it in, and remain calm. She needed to: for Yang.

"When..." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and wincing at the images running through her head. "When people make me mad, I think of the most vivid way for me to kill them. It makes me want to tear them apart limb from limb, and it feels so real... I thought I had actually run someone over with my bike a few weeks ago..." She choked back a sob, still wanting to hide herself against Blake's shoulder. "I've been so scared that I'm going to eventually snap and actually kill someone, but I can't get these thoughts out of my brain..."

"Well, you haven't yet, right?" Blake was at a loss for what to say. She'd known that Yang had some anger issues, but this was larger than she could've ever expected. Normally she'd just say it was a normal thing, because who didn't have thoughts like that a time or two? She'd had some pretty violent thoughts herself, though they were in much different scenarios. It wasn't just normal this time, though. Yang's reaction was proof enough of that. "I know you're not the kind of person to attack innocent people."

"What if I am, though?" She stared hard into Blake's eyes, the seriousness of her feelings evident in her eyes. "This isn't like Beacon, Blake. These aren't mindless Grimm that we're killing. It's just regular people, and I can't stop thinking about just... twisting their god damn arms off..." The thoughts were so vivid and never-ending when she closed her eyes. She opened her eyes wide trying to chase those thoughts away. They were still there in the back of her mind, though. "I want to hurt them so bad, but they didn't do anything wrong. It's not worth it to get so angry, but I can't help it..."

"Then... maybe you should talk to someone?" Blake smiled slightly, trying to broach that subject gently. Therapy was not a great point of conversation, and to this point Yang had shut it down any time it was mentioned. Whether it was suggested because of her issues with her mother, or after the loss of her arm, or even in the aftermath of their conflict with Salem, she had continually refused to talk to a professional about it. Sure, she'd talk about it with Blake, but Blake didn't consider herself a professional psychiatrist. There was only so much she could do or say to help.

"I don't want to do that, Blake..." She knew that she had issues, but she kept resisting all the same. It made her feel like she was a crazy person. That's what she'd grown up thinking: that people who had mental issues or had gone insane spoke to therapists. Normal people didn't do that, and she'd never believed that she was that far gone. At least, she hadn't thought so until now. Maybe she had reached that point now, but she still couldn't get herself to do it. If she could avoid it, then she could still pretend that she hadn't truly lost it. Agreeing to it would mean truly admitting defeat, and that worried her almost as much as her temper. "I don't like that..."

"I know you don't, Yang, but... you're not alone in this, you know? I've spoken with a professional about what I've gone through. So has Ruby, and so has Weiss. You were always very supportive of us doing that." She gently rubbed Yang's arms, trying to put her in a more calming state. "You know that we'd support you doing that too."

"I know, I know..." She was starting to calm down, her mind dulling down the thoughts that had gotten her so worked up before. "I'm the last one of our group who hasn't gone, though. It makes me feel... I dunno, special, I guess? Like I'm still okay, and I was! It wasn't this bad before!" She slumped into Blake's arms, sighing deeply. "It makes me feel like I have a handle on my emotions. Like I'm normal."

"Are you saying we're not normal?" There was a bit of hurt in Blake's voice, which Yang quickly picked up on. _'Fuck.'_ She'd stuck her foot in her mouth again.

"No! That's not what I meant!" She sighed deeply, wishing she could take it back. Not just the 'normal' comment, but everything that had led up to this moment. "It's just how it feels in my mind. I don't know how to explain it. I just don't want to go there. I don't want to need that help..." It wasn't that she felt her friends weren't normal. Far from it. It was just that it felt okay for them to seek help when they were going through that stuff. She'd always support that to the best of her abilities. It was different for her, though. She couldn't let herself seek help like that. Her independence was so important to her that even now, in a relationship that thrived on co-dependence, she still felt like she had to be the one to do things. She had to be the one to push through no matter how much she may struggle.

"Sometimes we need help, though. Even tough girls like you." Blake smiled and pulled Yang into a gentler hug. If Yang really thought this was a serious-enough issue, and it _did_ seem to be that way, then it really was important that she talk to someone about it. The last thing she wanted was something bad happening to her partner. If she could do something, anything to prevent that, then she would. "If this is truly troubling you, then I think you should see someone about it."

Yang didn't answer at first, letting the idea marinate in her head. She really didn't want to do this, but maybe Blake was right. This had been something she'd known was a problem for weeks now, and having a complete meltdown in their kitchen didn't make it any better. If she could support her friends when they were going through their own issues, then why couldn't she accept their support? It didn't make her lesser of a person, even if her brain made her feel that way.

"Maybe... Maybe you're right." She felt defeated, but she could see where Blake was coming from. The fact that she needed help had been staring her in the face for awhile now, but she'd refused to look it in the eye. Saying that it wasn't normal was rude to her friends who had to go through their own issues. If she wanted to keep herself from going overboard and destroying everything she loved, then she needed to give this a try.

"Will you do it, then? For me?" Yang nodded, which made Blake sigh with relief. The two of them stayed on the kitchen floor for a bit, just holding each other quietly. It was a serene silence that Yang really needed at the moment. Her heart rate was slowing down, and the anger that burned inside her was pretty much extinguished at that point. She could feel a calm that really only happened when she was in Blake's arms. Thenl she remembered why they were in the kitchen in the first place.

"Oh shit, the food!" She broke away from Blake's arms and stood up, looking at the kitchen table with a frown. "I forgot about it. Now your food's gonna be cold... And the hamburger made a mess of the wall..." She felt like a child who was realizing the extent of the mess they made in a tantrum. That wasn't a mood Blake wanted to fester, though. She stood up and placed a hand on Yang's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"It's not a big deal, Yang. I can heat it up again. You're more important than that." She looked across the room, where the fallen hamburger still lied. "Might need to get you something else to eat, though."

"Nah, I'll be fine with the fries. I kind of lost my appetite anyway." She pulled them out of the bag, putting one in her mouth. "Though they never taste the same when you heat them up."

"Yeah, but I'm sure we'll be fine." Yang nodded at that, putting the fries down so Blake could grab a plate to heat everything up on. She was already starting to regret agreeing to go see a therapist, but she knew she needed to push through those thoughts. Her anger had gotten out of hand, and if she didn't take care of it, then she was going to actually hurt someone. If she wasn't going to do it for herself, then she could do it for Blake.

"Hey, you ready to eat?" Blake came back with the plate of their reheated food, setting it on the table. Yang smiled and nodded, giving her a kiss before sitting down. Blushing slightly, Blake gave her a curious look. "What was that for?"

"For caring about me." She smiled, her mind feeling much clearer in that moment. It made her realize how lucky she was to have someone like Blake in her life. Who knew where she'd be without that kind of steadying presence around her. "Now c'mon, let's eat!" Smiling fondly, Blake sat down and grabbed her burger: the one that had actually come correct in the bag. They sat and ate together, with the mood at the table being more like it usually was. There was none of the anger and misery that had been there mere moments ago: just cheerful optimism.

This was the kind of life Yang wanted, and if she had to go to therapy to keep it that way, then she knew that she needed to. This life, the one she was sharing with Blake, was more important than anything else. She wouldn't let her own issues stand in the way of that. This was the first step to getting a grip on her emotions, and she was finally ready to take it.


End file.
